


Fragments

by sweetvampire



Category: Silent Witness (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:07:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29069289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetvampire/pseuds/sweetvampire
Summary: One-shots and missing scenes.
Relationships: Jack Hodgson/Minor Character(s), Jack Hodgson/Original Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

Addendum to _Falling_ _Angels._

“So - come on then. What’s it all been about, really?” Luke asked. The alcohol had - well, it hadn’t given him courage, exactly, but it meant the words were getting out before the anxious part of his brain had chance to hold them back. 

Jack sipped his pint, said nothing, and watched him steadily as he continued. 

“This - all this macho posturing. Because I know it’s bullshit, and you know it’s bullshit” - Luke broke off as something clicked into place in his head. “Look, if this is because I’m taking up a lot of Doctor Alexander’s time, I asked her to look at some case files for me, it’s not - it’s not a relationship, or, or anything like that! You don’t have to be jealous because she’s been working with me on something.”

For a moment or two, Jack continued to watch him. And then, the strangest thing - in an evening that, for Luke, had been full of strange things since Jack had clapped him on the arm as he went to leave and asked if he wanted to grab a drink. Jack was _smiling_ \- or rather, trying very hard to hide it while shaking his head in what might have been disbelief. 

“I’m not jealous of you,” he said, still trying and failing to hide his smirk. “If anything, I’m jealous of _her_.”

It took a few seconds for Luke to understand - and in that time, Jack had asked if he wanted a second drink, interpreted his absent-minded mumble of agreement successfully, and was now heading for the bar. By the time he’d returned with a pint in each hand, though, Luke felt more confused than ever. 

“Are you–” he started to say, and quickly broke off again. The question _are you gay?_ sat heavily on his tongue, and he drank some of the pint in front of him to wash away the taste of unasked questions. Jack watched him with amusement, and waited for him to find the words. 

“Are you flirting with me?” Luke asked tentatively. Even as he spoke it sounded wrong - _flirting_ felt too light, too much like teenage drama. This was darker, more uncertain. 

He didn’t want it to stop. 

“Well shit, I didn’t think it could have been much more obvious tonight,” Jack said dryly. “Yes, I’m flirting with you. And because I know you almost asked - not gay, bisexual.”

He watched Luke process this information before he said anything else, watched the emotions flicker across his face. Waited. 

“And seeing as you’ve only just noticed - it can stop here. If you want it to.” He forced himself to smile, as if it wasn’t that big a deal. “I’ve accidentally hit on straight guys before, I know how this usually goes. Although I’d prefer we skip the awkward denials and perceived slight on your masculinity and just agree to finish the drinks and go our separate ways.”

He took a sip of his pint, watching Luke over the rim of the glass. He didn’t seem angry, or upset. Mostly just confused, and taken by surprise. 

“Do you want me to stop?”

Luke hesitated before he spoke. “No. I’d like you to stay.”

  
 _I’d like you to stay_ turned into getting to know each other over another pint, and what Jack’s father might have called trading war stories: anecdotes from the job, shared with bleak humour and occasionally plain disbelief at how things turned out. It didn't turn into going back to someone's flat, but Luke found himself walking home in the dark with a smile lingering on his face and a scrap of paper in his pocket with Jack's number.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which the UK's laws about parents on a birth certificate are stupid, and potentially a violation of Article 8 of the Human Rights Act, the right to private life.

Missing scene post- _To Brighton, To Brighton_.

They were lying in bed together, one evening, when Jack - half-asleep and mind beginning to wander - asked something he didn’t expect. 

“Do you want kids?”

Leo tensed for a fraction of a second, before he laughed and brushed the question off. “Me? Nah. I can’t be a dad. Can’t see it, somehow.”

“I guess I’ve never really thought about it, to be honest. Until now.”

Leo turned to look up at Jack from where he’s resting his head on his chest. “Something from work?”

“Yes and no.” Jack moved the shoulder Leo wasn’t lying on in an approximation of a shrug. “I think, longer term, it’s something I want. If you don’t…”

He let the sentence trail off, suddenly uncomfortably aware of how quickly this had gone from sleepy murmurs and soft conversation to something a little less soft, a little more alert and uneasy. 

“Jack” - Leo broke off, sighed, and sat up, turning away from Jack. Facing away from him, talking to the empty chair in the corner, he said quietly, “It’s complicated.”

Jack sat up, swung his legs off the bed to sit on the edge next to Leo, sliding an arm around him. 

“So tell me,” he said softly.

Leo sighed, picked at an invisible loose thread on the hem of his boxer shorts. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and uneven, the sentences fragmented. 

“Jack, when I said I can’t be a dad, I meant - not just me as a person - which I’m not, I’m really not right now, but - it’s more than that, it’s the _law_ . If I have kids - if I carry and give birth to a child - I _can’t_ be the father. I’m that child’s mum.”

In the off-white glow from the bedside lamp, there were tears in Leo’s eyes. Jack didn’t try to tell him it was okay, didn’t try to make him feel better with soothing words that didn’t mean anything. He just held him close; Leo didn’t resist, and let himself be pulled back to lie down in Jack’s arms. 

“I wish, more than anything, that I could have kids,” he whispered. 

Jack stayed quiet. There was nothing he could say, nothing he could do to make this easier. 

“At the moment, legally, it’s a complicated and messy situation - if I don’t give birth, then in theory we’d be a same-sex couple adopting. In theory.”

Jack thought about saying something then, about _that wouldn’t matter to me_ , about _how much do I have that’s worth passing on_. Something about all those kids in the care system.

“Leo, I–”

“But I can’t have kids of my own, and that shouldn’t matter, but it does. Because never mind that I’m a man, that every piece of documentation I own says I’m a man, that legally I’m a man - if I have a child, that’s all for nothing.”

He twisted away from Jack and lay flat, staring blankly up at the ceiling and willing himself not to cry. 

“I can’t be registered as the” - his voice cracked - “as the father on the birth certificate. I _have_ to be registered as the mother. And it's bullshit.”

Carefully, slowly, Jack reached out to him and took his hand. Leo held on as if he might fall off the world when he let go.


	3. Chapter 3

Missing scene from _The Greater Good_. 

He got a phone call at work from a number he didn’t recognise; after the mess of what had happened to Jess, Leo had got into the habit of taking the calls. He ducked out of the office and into one of the microscopic offices across the corridor. 

“Hello?”

“Hi - I’m calling from the Lyell Centre - it’s Clarissa - is this Leo?”

“Speaking. Hi, Clarissa.” This wasn’t going to be good news, if Clarissa’s shaky voice and broken sentences were anything to go by. 

“Hi. I’m really sorry - I’ve got some bad news. Jack was - he was working at an incident site when one of the officers on the scene collapsed, Jack went to help her and he - he’s in hospital, he’s on ventilation.”

“Oh, god, no.” Leo pressed a clenched fist against his mouth, willing himself to hold it together, desperately trying not to just break down and cry. “Can you tell me where? Which hospital?”

Clarissa told him. 

“I’m on my way.”

He got the tube part of the way, then a cab that overcharged him. He barely noticed, waved the guy off with a tip, and tried to look vaguely like he knew what he was doing as he walked into the hospital and asked where Jack was. The receptionist was initially wary of him, but eventually told him which ward and floor. 

Nikki passed him going the other way as he turned and headed down another featureless corridor, and he almost didn’t recognise her. She looked pale and drawn, and barely seemed to recognise him, either. 

“Nikki?”

“Leo!” She stopped abruptly, turning back to face him, her hand coming up to his arm. “Leo, I’m - I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Leo shook his head. “Don’t talk like that,” he said, forcing the words out and trying to keep his fragile composure. “He’s not dead yet.”

“Before you go in - he’s in quarantine.” Nikki’s hand on his arm seemed to become the only solid point of contact as the world went fuzzy and distant, her quiet words turning to screams in Leo’s mind. “No-one knows what’s happened, no-one knows what’s wrong.”

Leo closed his eyes, concentrated on keeping his breathing slow and even and regular. “Is he awake?”

“In and out of consciousness.” He felt Nikki’s hands on both arms now, guiding him backwards to lean against the wall. Clearly she thought he might faint. She wasn’t far wrong. “They’ve got - someone took a phone to him, so you can talk to him.”

He felt her hesitation - she’d been about to say something else, and then she’d fallen silent. He opened his eyes and looked up from the floor to meet her gaze. 

“What is it?” he asked, his voice shaky but - for the moment - even.

She paused before answering. “Jack’s father is here. I don’t know if you’ve - met.”

That tiny pause before ‘met’ was doing a hell of a lot of work in her sentence. Had they met? Did Conor Hodgson know his son was queer? Did he even know Jack was seeing someone? In any other situation, Leo would have laughed and teased her about how careful she was being. 

He choked back the manic giggle threatening to rise up and said quietly, “No, we’ve not met.”

“Mr Hodgson?”

Conor looked up, tearing his eyes away from the window into Jack’s room. “Can I help you?”

“I didn’t know whether you wanted milk in your tea, so I got one with and one without.” The young man in the leather jacket held out a paper cup to him; wisps of steam curled off the top. “Sorry. I don’t think we’ve met - I’m Leo.” 

There was maybe a half a second pause before he spoke again; Conor watched the fear in his eyes, and watched him fight it down. 

“I’m Jack’s partner.”

Conor took the tea without milk and extended a hand. “Conor. Pleasure to meet you.”

The young man shook his hand and gave him a weak smile. “Likewise. I wish it could have been under better circumstances.”


End file.
